


unpacking a box of lunchables

by MafagafoGirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homestuck Stabdads, Catharsis, Fluff, Gen, Humanstuck, Smoking, discussion of trauma and child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MafagafoGirl/pseuds/MafagafoGirl
Summary: Doze and Gamzee sit down to watch the rain.This is a follow-up to Hold Onto a Motherfucker. Reading it is optional, but it provides context to the story.
Kudos: 5





	unpacking a box of lunchables

**Author's Note:**

> Hold Onto a Motherfucker

Rainy days in Midnight City were very rare, as town in the middle of the desert is prone to be. However dry it was, every time it rained, it poured, and it was at days like these that, if Doze had the free time, he liked to sit down and watch the rain. Today was one of those days, as he was visiting Gamzee and had all the time in the world to give to the boy; he always made a point to spend the night at his home every time he visited the halfway house to check on things. After all, a father must be present for his son, even if he’s already an adult with his own responsibilities, plus it saved Quarters the extra trip to and from the mansion to pick him up again.

He sat down at his refurbished rocking chair on the back porch, watching the rain fall in little grooves on the grass where the roof details were lower, just a line of little dots digging their way from green to brown as they hit the soil. The old man took out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it up with some matches he kept in his pocket.

It felt nice, to listen to the rain, watching it pour onto the rosebeds in the garden, next to the back fence, and not do much of anything else besides absent-mindedly puff his pipe. The noise and the flowing movement of the water were both hypnotizing, allowing him to meditate quite easily. 

Gamzee soon followed him out, with his hands in his pockets, and stood in front of the back door watching the rain too.

“Pull up a chair, boyo.” Asked Doze, gesturing to the old wooden chair on the other corner of the porch, and Gamzee wordlessly pulled it out, placing it right next to the rocking chair, and promptly sat down.

The two of them were used to sitting and talking, but lately, as loose ends tied together and the novelty of being family settled, they’ve resorted to only sitting. Silent company was good, Doze figured. Meant the boy enjoyed his presence without feeling the need to actively interact. Which, for someone as introverted as himself, worked quite well. After a few moments, he glanced back to Gamzee, and watched as he ran his fingers through his well-trimmed goatee, with his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the fence, expression showing that he must’ve had quite a lot in his mind.

Doze exhaled the smoke through his nose, letting it disappear in the air, and made a gentle gesture with his pipe to grab Gamzee’s attention.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’ve been thinkin’, pops.” The young man straightened his back on the chair, lifting his arms from his knees so he could gesture as he spoke. “Y’know what a charcuterie board is, right?”

“Aye.”

“So I was like doing a motherfucking thought the other day and I realized that... yo. These fuckin’ things. They’re just adult lunchables, ain’t they?” He didn’t look at his father while talking, focusing his eyes on his own hands, but then lifted his head up to face him.

“What is a lunchable, my dear?” Doze blinked, leaning closer, a frown of interest plastered across his face.

“It’s motherfuckin’, uh...” Gamzee looked around the floorboards below them to find words. “It’s a kiddy charcuterie board.”

“Oooh...” Doze said softly leaning back, contemplating the newfound knowledge with his brow up. Gamzee continued.

“And it has like fake salami and fake cheese and fake bread and shit.”

Doze nodded, now caught up, and the two sat in silence for a while.

“Why does the child version has to have fake things, I wonder.” The old man finally said, not really looking back at Gamzee, watching the rain pour down in front of them.

“I dunno, pops. I guess kids aren’t as picky with what they put inside their eatin’ hole.”

“Maybe. What’re they going to do, anyways.” He turned to his son, with a broad, almost dismissive gesture. “Complain to their parents?”

“But then that also makes me think.”

“Hmm?”

The young man proceeded to talk to his hands, explaining what he felt with the best words he could find.

“That when you’re a lil’ tyke ya get all sorts a’ lies fed t’ ya. Cuz you’re a little kid and you don’t know any better so it doesn’t fuckin’ matter what people say to you. And it stays with you, right?” He glanced up at Doze, and then back to his hands. “It motherfuckin’ stays with you and when you tell people about it they make a face like ‘the fuck’s this lunatic talkin’ about’ and then you get to do all the fuckin’ work and shit. To unlearn that.”

Doze furrowed his brows.

“Are we still talking about charcuterie boards?”

“Pops, c’mon.” Gamzee opened his arms, a neutral, but diverted and lightly mischievous expression on his face. “Pick up the speed.”

“Oh, you know how I am.” Doze sketched up a smile, shaking his head gently.

“I’m talkin’. I dunno. I’m talkin’ about just fake stuff in general, man. Why people lie to kids y’know.”

Gamzee’s guardian stroked his cheek with the tip of the pipe before responding, thinking about his own words carefully.

“Well, sometimes people lie to children to protect them. But... I don’t think that people who do it consistently without reason are really looking for the child’s best interests.”

“Yeah.” Gamzee agreed, and energetically nodded again to punctuate his words. “Yeah! And that shit fries in my thinkpan like some motherfucking sausages, man. You mean people don’t go to the Dark Carnival when they die? Fuck. So that was all a lie. What about all the people I hurt because of that? I figure that just makes me angry, pops.”

“Angry?”

“Yeah. Cuz it’s all fake. It was all so that I would be strapped in with them forever. And get all high up so I could get numb and they could make me do whatever they want.” He stopped, leaning on the back of his chair, contemplative, and raised his voice gradually as frustration set down on his mind. “Why did they do that to me. Why the fuck would they do that to me?!”

“Easy there now.” Doze placed a hand on his shoulder, which made him instinctively relax his tensed up torso. “No reason for getting worked up about things that already happened. You can’t change them.”

“But I have the right to! It fuckin’ happened to me!”

“Oh, I know that fairly well. If I had a penny for every time I got upset at things that happened to me...”

“What, you’d have two pennies?” Gamzee put on the same gently mischievous smile from earlier.

“No, I would have so many I wouldn’t have to work anymore. The point is...” Doze stopped, and waved his pipe with a shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. I think being angry at things that no more happen isn’t really doing anything for you. But it’s not a shameful thing. I just don’t do that anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I figured, well, if it pains me so much to think about that, I just... Won’t think about it.”

“Can’t really control my thoughts that way, pops. You’re a fuckin’ mind bender.” Gamzee said, smiling, poking his own temple a few times for demonstration. Doze chuckled in response, leaning back on his rocking chair and admiring the rain.

“Different people have different ways of processing pain, Gamzee. Some people get angry, I understand that. Some people stop thinking about it altogether. I reckon... You’re going to survive easier if you find something that takes your mind off it. Do something productive – like you did, you redecorated the entire house while I was away.” He leaned forwards momentarily, gesturing back towards the house. “Getting angry only gets you so far.”

“Huh.”

“It’s good to vent your frustrations, but I think sometimes it reaches a point where... It just doesn’t help anymore.” Doze shrugged again, nibbling the tip of his pipe in a pause. “It-it either makes you relive it, which isn’t good, or it just flat out makes you upset and ruins your day.”

Gamzee let these words float for a while, digesting them silently.

“Ain’t that the truth, pops. How d’you get by not thinkin’ about the stuff, then?”

“Well I try to distract myself, really. It’s hard to explain. The more you do it, the easier it gets. I am, indeed, an easily distractible man.” Doze commented with a jovial smile.

“Amen t’ that.” The young man nodded.

The rain kept pouring down, relentless, and a gentle wind started blowing some of it inside the roofed porch, sending a chill onto Doze’s sore knees. Now done with his smoking, he leaned forward, and tapped the pipe against the side of the house, to let the still fuming tobacco fall to the wet ground below and be absorbed by the soil.

  
  


“Well.” He said with a bit of strain as he got up from the chair. Gamzee followed his motion, standing up as well, and took the chair back to open space for them to walk back inside. “It’s gettin’ mighty cold out here. Why don’t we go back inside and I make us some hot chocolate?” He smiled fondly to Gamzee, lifting his eyebrows. “And then maybe you could set up one of these adult lunchables for us.”

Gamzee grinned, happy to forget what troubled him for the time being with the promise of hot beverages and neatly arranged cold cuts.

“Aw, sweet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can check out my twitter here. Feel free to scream at me any time!


End file.
